


Half Shots

by rantheon



Category: Dark Nights (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drinking Games, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, House Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23818378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rantheon/pseuds/rantheon
Summary: Ikuya holds a party, then several cases of alcohol mysteriously appears in the kitchen.
Kudos: 5





	Half Shots

Ikuya is hosting a party today for reasons unknown; it only says _Neighborhood Gathering_ on the hand-drawn invitation, which is really a piece of scrap paper with flower doodles. Lioji and I had been summoned to her house at the crack of dawn, asking us to help her prepare for it.

As it is now, it isn’t just the _neighborhood_ that has gathered.

“Those two are...”

Lioji squints at the two guests who have settled in the chairs by the foldable table stretched out on the lawn. Junoru is trying not to look at the dishes while Roya is muttering something to him, a wide grin on his face.

“I’ve never seen them before. Miyoko, did you invite them?”

“Um, no. They were just strolling by and Ikuya just... let them in.”

Lioji sighs. “So careless...”

“They’re relatively harmless,” I say. (Kind of.) “I’ve met them a few times.”

Lioji frowns and opens his mouth, probably to ask _where_ or _when_ , but gets cut off when Ikuya suddenly calls for his help. After one last glance at the two, he heaves another sigh and reluctantly goes over to where she is.

Heading back to the kitchen, I suddenly see a flash of red above me and look up at the roof. I can only see his silhouette, but Zeikun almost looks like a human gargoyle on the roof. I remind myself to bring out the fruit salad from the fridge.

“Lioji! You’re burning the barbecue!”

“What? No, I’m not.”

I set down the tower of disposable plates on the table, then look at my best friends on the other side of the lawn. Lioji stands next to the grill, which is now starting to look more like a campfire. Beside him, Ikuya is futilely wrestling for the fan and tongs in his hands.

Roya grimaces. He’s looking at the grill with disgust.

“It’s practically black!”

“That’s its crispiness, Ikuya.”

“Ugh—”

Roya is suddenly gone from his seat as he silently strides over to Lioji. From behind, he takes the fan away with ease, a strained smile on his lips. “Please, allow me. You’re wasting the meat.”

Lioji blinks, speechless, as he watches Roya control the fire. Ikuya immediately uses this chance to grab the tongs and scoop the charred pieces of meat onto a clean plate.

Pursing my lips to stop myself from laughing, I continue to set the table, pouring drinks into individual cups I had lined up. I hand one to Junoru, who still looks a bit uncomfortable. 

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I can always tell Ikuya—”

“No, it is fine.” Junoru gives me a smile. “I cannot refuse a drink offered to me, now can I?”

I spot a shadow from the corner of my eye. There is silver hair sticking out behind the fence separating Ikuya’s house and the next house over; a second later: a flash of green eyes.

The person immediately ducks their head behind the fence.

I creep up to the fence in silence, positioning myself right in front of where he is, then wait. When the eyes pop up again, our gazes meet and the person moves back in surprise. He has a familiar card in his hand.

I laugh. “Hi, Sachiro. Are you here for the party?”

“Y-Yes.” He quickly straightens, tugging on his scarf. While secretly gesturing to Ikuya, he holds up the card. “She gave this to me yesterday. I hope I'm not...”

“Nope, you’re just on time. Come on, there’s drinks on the table and I think the barbecue will be done soon.”

After coaxing him into the garden, we catch Zeikun suddenly sitting opposite Junoru at the table with his arms crossed, looking at the fruit salad intensely. Sachiro looks a bit reluctant but takes a seat beside him.

“Is it hot here or is it just me?” Roya is shamelessly fanning himself like a primadonna.

Ikuya takes a long, good look at him. “It’s you.”

“Oh?”

He tries moving closer, his grin turning a bit lopsided, an arm already reaching out for her. Without any hesitation at all, Ikuya instantly whacks his hand away with the tongs. “Kidding! It’s probably the barbecue. Now keep fanning or the fire will go out.”

Roya obeys, laughing.

Upon returning to the table, Lioji looks bewildered at the sight of more people he doesn’t recognize. He has a moment of contemplation, trying to sort it out in his head, before he eventually shrugs in defeat and takes a seat too.

“Kicked out of barbecuing duty?”

“I’m not _that_ bad,” he points out. “I just wanted to get away from _that_.”

“ _That?_ ”

He gestures to the grill, where Ikuya and Roya seem to be having a conversation. If _conversation_ means standing at opposite sides, each armed with tongs (when did they get a second one?) and wrestling with the meat on the grill. Ikuya looks even more exasperated than earlier.

“That’s not ready yet!”

“Don’t you fancy a nice medium rare steak?”

“...That’s more _rare_ than _medium rare_.”

“They have a rather delectable taste, in my opinion.”

Junoru and Lioji are engaged in a conversation about... what _sounds_ like a school subject or project, but there is so much jargon thrown in that I cannot make sense of it. Lioji looks happy to talk, while there is a faint glint in Junoru’s eyes as he listens.

Zeikun has now proceeded to devour the bowl of fruit salad. Sachiro, too, was politely stuffing his face with desserts. Kurato, who has randomly showed up out of nowhere, tries to sneak up behind me so I throw a cup of soda into his face.

Some of our classmates stop by, too, but they immediately plaster tense smiles and step away once they look at the other guests. I mutter a silent apology to Ikuya.

No one knew who had brought the alcohol. It came in large cases of beer bottles that had mysteriously appeared in the kitchen. They have no labels, just tags attached to ribbons tied round their necks. Drawn on the labels is a black cane with pink stripes.

By the time it was poured and served and almost everyone had taken a sip, it was already too late.

Sachiro and I are the only ones who didn't have a drink, so we opted to clean up the lawn. After clearing the table and placing leftovers into stacked tupperware, we enter the house where everyone else had gone into.

I find the first bottle lying on the floor, having rolled out of Zeikun’s hands.

The man himself is sitting in the corner of Ikuya’s living room, his head bowed lowly, an empty bowl of fruit salad in his lap. His hair is so mussed that his braid is already coming undone, running down his back and over his face like a red veil.

I carefully approach him, lifting a hand to tap his shoulder. He immediately whips his head towards me; I’m not sure whether to laugh at his flushed cheeks or the confused anger in his dazed eyes.

“Shuuf—saaal—lead,” he murmurs, his voice all grumbly like rocks.

“Shuff?”

He picks up the bowl and holds it out in front of him, like a child asking for candy on Halloween. “Shoe... led.”

“...ad?” I tilt my head. “Salad?”

“ _Fruss._ ” His eyes flash a different color as he glares at me. After a moment, his eyes close completely and he falls forward, planting his head into the bowl. Somehow he remains seated upright.

“Z-Zeikun...?”

He’s snoring.

There’s also probably bits of fruit salad stuck to his hair now.

Sachiro calls out from behind me, kneeling on the floor by the table. He’s holding up the cloth, and I can vaguely see an outline of a body underneath the table. “Miyoko! I found Kurato!”

The two of us drag the hopeless guy out. He’s asleep but also stinks of the alcohol, even more than Zeikun does. While I wonder how he even got under the table to begin with, he opens his eyes and sits up, rubbing his head.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. What hap—”

“Miyoooo~”

Kurato suddenly dives for my arms, wrapping himself around my waist. I’m still frozen from shock when he suddenly starts giggling like a little schoolgirl with the occasional hiccup. I try to shake him off me but it seems to make him cling even tighter.

“Kurato, get off.”

“Miyoooo~”

“ _Get. Off._ Or I’ll smack you.” I look at Sachiro with a pleading look. “ _Please_ get this thing off me before I smack him.”

Sachiro grimaces but puts his hands around Kurato’s arm. After several tugs, and a few kicks from me, Kurato finally releases me and I scramble to my feet just in case he tries to do it again.

Instead he gazes at me with blank eyes and a dopey smile.

“Yep, he’s a lost cause.” Sachiro nods to himself. I agree.

The twins can hear the cries coming from the house. They stand on the driveway, squinting at the house and the odd case of bottles sitting by itself in the garden. Jace picks up a bottle, opening it a crack to sniff before letting out a long whistle.

“Are you going to drink it?”

“Hmm... No.”

Another yell from the second-floor window.

“Oooh, a party. Sounds fun.”

“It _sounds_ like drunk banshees,” Biace murmurs, already reaching for his bandages. Jace puts a hand in front of him with a slight shake of his head.

“ _He’s_ probably in there.”

“...Hmph.” Blace starts to walk away; Jace hurriedly follows after.

“Hey, Blace, want to smell this? It’s _horrid_.”

“Absolutely not. And don’t bring it with you—we don’t know where it’s been.”

Upstairs, Roya and Lioji are sitting on a bed, which really means they’re sitting on the edges and trying not to fall off. Roya has a triumphant grin on his face, despite the fact that he looks like he’s about to vomit. Lioji already looks flushed, but his eyes are as clear as ever.

Kaichi is casually floating over the bed, his face over Roya’s shoulder. He seems to be egging him on.

There are a dozen small cups in front of them, lined up in half-dozen rows. Three on each side are filled to the brim with liquid. Ikuya is at the foot of the bed with a whistle in her mouth and wearing a sports visor.

I step into the room. “Ikuya, _what_ are you doing?”

“I’m refereeing, of course. Any bets?”

“You’re _betting_ on them?”

“Mmhm.”

“...I’ll go Lioji.”

Roya looks at me with a quirked brow. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

Suddenly Ikuya blows the whistle, and the two on the bed start to down the alcohol as fast as they could.

Junoru is going around the room, picking up trash and empty bottles and stuffing them into a large black bag. He catches my gaze and gives me a small smile. “They’ve been at it for 15 minutes now.”

“Lioji won first round!” Ikuya exclaims. “6.5 seconds—”

“Done! Win!” Roya screams, throwing his last cup onto the bed. It weakly bounces off and hits the floor, cracking into pieces. Junoru sighs and goes over to sweep it up. “How many? How many was _that_?”

“6.9 seconds!”

“Ha!” Lioji tilts his second-to-last cup towards Roya. “My record still stands.”

“You little—”

“Oh, Miyoko, you should’ve seen Kurato earlier,” Kaichi says to me, an evil glint to his eyes. “He lost to Lioji, and his drunk singing was so _awful_ it’ll make you cry.”

**Author's Note:**

> this oneshot is an excuse to write about some headcannons i've had about the DN cast for a while, like how they'd act at a party and/or drunk. also some self-indulgent chill time between Roya & Ikuya, and Lioji & Junoru (i adore the idea of them hanging out off-screen).


End file.
